The Bride Test (The Kiss Quotient 2)

She shook her head again. “No, I’m scared you’ll push me away again when I touch you wrong, scared you’ll leave me again.” Against her will, her eyes watered, and tears spilled over. She turned her face away from him and swiped at her eyes with the back of a sleeve, embarrassed now. Even to her own ears, she sounded pathetic.

He cupped her cheek and gently urged her to look at him. “I won’t,” he said in a rough voice. “At least, I’ll try not to.”

She nodded and attempted to smile in response, but it felt off. “I’ll try not to” didn’t sound very convincing.

He surprised her by gathering her tightly fisted hands together and kissing her knuckles. “You did this yesterday, too.” He eased her stiff fingers open, and when he saw the deep grooves her nails had left in her palms, his eyebrows drew together. “No more of this.”

After a brief hesitation, he sat back on his heels and pulled his shirt off, revealing broad expanses of smooth skin stretched over sculpted muscle.

“The place I’m asking you not to touch is . . .” He took a breath, squared his shoulders, and said, “My bellybutton.”

She couldn’t help it, a smile spread over her mouth and a laugh threatened to escape. “Your bellybutton?”

“Yes, my bellybutton. I know it sounds funny.”

“A little.” She tried to wipe her smile away, but that only made her grin bigger.

“I mean it,” he said with a level gaze. “I can’t stand being touched there. If you try, I might accidentally hurt you. I can’t control my reactions when it comes to that place. I don’t even like thinking about it.”

“I won’t touch you there. I promise. But . . .” She edged closer to him. “I can touch everywhere else?”

He nodded once. “Yes, as long as—”

“No light touch, I know.”

She lowered a hand toward his chest, and he held still, not making any move to stop her. Before making contact, she withdrew, paused for the span of a heart’s beat, and took her shirt off just like he’d done. As usual, she wasn’t wearing a bra—she hated them—and he consumed her with his gaze, making her feel like the most desired woman in the world. She brought their bodies together from chest to knees, rested her cheek against his shoulder, and gingerly wrapped her arms around him. Holding her breath, she pressed her palms firmly against the hard planes of his back, even though she knew he couldn’t see.

Her heart pounded so hard she could feel her sternum shaking with each beat. This was the first time she’d dared to hug him since she’d crawled into his bed with that nightmare. If he was going to push her away, now was the time.

He didn’t. He kissed the top of her head and hugged her in return, and moment by moment, Esme relaxed into him as the hurt slowly drained out of her.

Eventually, she dared to let her hands roam. She explored his strong shoulders, the swells of his biceps, and everything from the pads of muscle between his shoulder blades down to the twin grooves in the small of his back, and he let

her; he trusted her.

Maybe she kissed his neck. And his jaw. His chin. When he turned toward her, their lips met, and sensation sang through her. The kiss started tenderly but quickly escalated into something intense as they tried to get closer to each other. She could hardly breathe, and she didn’t care.

She boldly stroked him through his pants, loving the way he groaned and kissed her harder. And then it was happening. Hungry hands undid buttons, lowered zippers, pushed cloth down. She touched him there for the first time, loving how deliciously different he was from herself, and he touched her in return. His fingertips searched through damp curls and wet folds and settled there, there, there. She tore open the box he’d bought with trembling fingers and extracted a foil packet.

“No oral sex?” he asked. “The books I read highly recommended it . . . and I wanted to try.”

It took her a few seconds to figure out what that was, and then her blush grew so hot she could feel heat coming off her body in waves. That was not something she’d ever known, and her grandma certainly wouldn’t approve. The thought of him kissing her between her thighs was outrageous.

And intriguing.

“Later,” she said and urged him to hurry. Once he’d rolled the condom onto his length, she pulled him down onto the floor with her. Their bodies lined up next to each other in that perfect way, and he pressed his cheek to hers like he was savoring being close to her.

“Please, don’t let me make you cry,” he whispered in her ear. “If something is wrong, tell me so I can fix it. Please.”

Her heart squeezed, and she hugged him tight. “I’ll tell you.”

He swallowed once before he shifted his hips, and they came together with broken breaths and a long sigh. Filled with him, she couldn’t help arching up, trying to get closer, until he reached between them and touched her. She clenched tightly around him as heat shimmered outward from the place where his fingertips stroked.

“Show me how to make it good for you, too,” he said as he looked at her directly, no trace of shame on his face. “Because I need you to feel the way I do right now.”

At first, she froze with a mixture of embarrassment and inhibition, but then she settled her hand over Kh?i’s and showed him how to pleasure her. She’d always thought it was bad for a woman to participate like this in bed, but perceptions didn’t matter when it was the two of them. She would be whatever he needed.

When he started to move his hips as he caressed her with his fingers, she couldn’t stop the sounds escaping her throat. Stroked inside and out, treasured, loved. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him in every way she could as their bodies found a rhythm.